Reverie in the backcountry
Photo Credit: Jeff Forsee, Aotearoa Anglers
Find Jack’s How to fly fish the New Zealand backcountry article here
Only got 5 mins? Read the Minnow version here.
In the realm of fly fishing, there's more to this sport than just catching fish. It's about the people you meet, the places you explore, and the adventures that unfold. For me, fly fishing isn't just a hobby; it's something I’ve strived to shape my life around, a medium through which some of my closest friendships are forged, the way I connect and spend time with my father, and the way I most prefer to experience the beauty of nature. In part, fly fishing is about seeking out and pursuing unpressured fisheries & new experiences. And as I’ve discovered, it can be furthered by using various means to get there – whether it's by pack raft, drift boat, or simply your own two feet.
Among the world's treasures for fly fishing experiences, the South Island of New Zealand stands proudly at the forefront, offering not only an unparalleled quality fishery but also the promise of something immeasurable, an opportunity at once-in-a-lifetime experiences.
The New Zealand backcountry, to me, is everything people talk about and more. I believe it embodies the quintessence of fly fishing with a mixture of some of the most incredible natural places on our planet coupled with capricious weather and seemingly incomprehensible amounts of super fishy water. While the adages about New Zealand Fly Fishing being super tough; with spooky trout, the use of long leaders and difficult casts often into the howling wind, can certainly be true, it can also be paralleled with seemingly effortless fly fishing. I have had days with all the makings of the former, and also days where the fish were so keen that they would inexplicably smash large dry flies, submerged and stripped back aggressively, somehow defying the basic principles I was taught about trout behaviour.
But it's not just the fish that have lured me to these remote places; it's the sense of adventure, achievement, and awe of the New Zealand landscape that comes with each fly fishing trip. I have been remarkably lucky to have had opportunities to venture into New Zealand's backcountry, and I'm constantly reminded of the versatility of fly fishing. I often think to myself with each new experience, that it’s like the blinkers coming off, and I have this widened my peripheral view of what can be explored, tried, and tested. Each backcountry fly fishing trip isn’t just a matter of casting a line somewhere new; it's a journey filled with a combination of mishaps, accomplishments, and the ongoing deepened understanding and appreciation of fly fishing.
I have always been drawn to the outdoors, and for me, fly fishing is a focus on the micro aspects of nature in an attempt to connect with something greater. While “match the hatch” may feel like a cliché term bandied around to drive people to think more about their fly choice, to me, it’s much more than that. One of my greatest joys is focusing and connecting further with the natural environment in order to achieve something. This is as simple as being cognisant of what’s occurring in a bug life cycle, enough to replicate it with a fly choice then present it to a point where a fish changes its behaviour to come and look at your fly or, all things allowing, eat it. But I strongly believe the outcome does not need to be tied to the goal; all elements of these backcountry adventures work in symbiosis to form something incredible, and for whatever reason, hooking and landing fish seems to become the catalyst for embarking on the journey, rather than the core aspiration. Focusing on the minutia of fly fishing in immersive backcountry environments bleeds away the busyness of life and, personally, gets me to tap back into a part of myself that is seemingly evaporated or diminished in day-to-day life.
More recently, I've traded conventional transportation for less conventional methods, using pack rafts and drift boats to access new waters and even regularly visited streams to fish them differently. These vessels aren't just tools for fly fishing; they're a gateway to new ways of engaging with fly fishing. These methods, speak to the versatility of fly fishing, and while fly fishing and boats are not always mutually inclusive, they seem to enhance one another in many aspects – particularly when placed in the right environments. Recently, I journeyed with a pack raft into Fiordland National Park, a 12,000 Square Kilometre wilderness zone located on the bottom end of the world, and I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of the experience. We accessed areas that likely hadn’t been visited in some time and were unreachable by foot in those conditions; we may as well have stumbled onto Valhalla.
The allure of outdoor gear plays a significant role in my pursuit of backcountry fly fishing. From pack rafts to lightweight tents crafted from fandangled materials like Dyneema, and ultralight chairs that weigh less than your water bottle. And while these items aren’t critical to the experience, I find myself spending hours perusing outdoor gear websites, envisioning how these innovations could elevate my next adventure, and getting equally stoked when this translates when I’m out there.
But in all honesty, the true magic of the backcountry lies in the unexpected. It's the moments when everything seems to be going wrong, yet a single experience makes it all worthwhile. I have this deep-seated belief that when lots of things aren’t going to plan, its setting the experience up for some sort of miracle that will salvage the entire trip. Sometimes those miracle moments are not abundantly obvious and are only realised once the trip has been, gone and you’re reminiscing over a beer with the mate that you dragged along promising some sort of transcendental fly fishing experience.
Then there are the people who seek out and readily accompany you on these backcountry fly fishing journeys. They are not just fellow anglers; they become people with whom you’ve shared an experience so grand that it might be beyond explanation or comprehension to others, individuals who share your passion for the outdoors and your intrinsic need for this type of adventure. These are the friends who become lifelong companions, bound by the unforgettable experiences of the backcountry.
While these experiences and places may seem distant, and the required equipment might appear complex and expensive, the truth is, they're not. These adventures don't need to adhere to specific criteria; they can be as straightforward as dedicating a single day to a remote and peaceful location that requires a bit of extra effort to reach. I firmly believe that this is where New Zealand truly shines. While for many, travelling to New Zealand may involve almost a week's worth of transit, once you're here, grand adventures await just beyond the established road systems. All it takes is some knowledge, available time, an enthusiastic companion, and a touch of imagination.
In the world of fly fishing, where every cast is a connection to nature and every journey is an opportunity for discovery, the blend of people, places, and adventure becomes like a tapestry of memories and experiences. As I reflect on my adventures in the New Zealand backcountry, I'm reminded that fly fishing isn't merely about catching fish; it's a journey that becomes part of who we are as individuals. It's those moments when you lay your eyes on places you've long dreamed of, when you witness a trout delicately sipping a dry fly from the surface of gin-clear waters, and when you gather around the evening fire with your mates, sipping cheap red wine poured out of a Nalgene bottle, all of it blending in with the whispers of nature. These experiences shape us, connect us, and keep us coming back for more.